The Soul Beneath
by ScooterJLM
Summary: Link Hylia has worn the mask for as long as he could remember. Worn it since his mother died, wears it to this very day. A week at summer camp won't change it, he'll simply go through the motions of monotony. He just wasn't expecting a girl to take interest, to manage to peel back a corner of the mask and see the face beneath. The soul beneath. Inspired by true events.
1. Chapter I: Bleeding Through

**DISCLAIMER:**** I, ScooterJLM, do not own The Legend of Zelda or any of its characters. H****owever****,**** I**** own any and all OCs that appear**** and the plotline contained within this story****. I am not making any profit off this work of fiction.**

**Author's Note:**** The following Fanfiction is inspired by true events. I needed to write this out of my system while it is still fresh in my mind and the best way to do that and protect the identities of those involved was to publish it as Fanfiction. Note that not every single detail is not exactly the same as to what happened, but the feelings are extremely real.**

**Scooter Radio:**** The Heavy - Short Change Hero; Jimi Hendrix - All Along The Watchtower; The Eagles - Hotel California; Guns N' Roses - November Rain; The Rolling Stones - Paint It Black; Woodkid - Iron & Ghost Lights; Shinedown - 45, My Name, & Sound of Madness. Just some music I listened to while writing this, look them up if you want.**

**_Chapter published on August 27th, 2014_**

* * *

**The Soul Beneath**

_by ScooterJLM_

Chapter I

His first waking thoughts were of her.

He blinked at the ceiling; it remained blurry. He blinked twice. Much better.

The blanket draped over him fell away soundless as he dropped to the floor beside his bed, warm morning light and the varied sounds of construction drifting through his open window. He winced slightly as the cold of his hardwood floor started seeping into his skin and from the gentle jarring of his knees. For the first moments of being conscious that day, he was himself, could feel the freedom in the air, in his body, in his soul. But as he shrugged into a robe to cover his nearly bare figure, he felt the mask return, and as he stood, frozen to the spot, hand on his room's doorknob, he submitted to it caging him. It slowly enveloped him and pressed his subdued soul further inside of him. Routine.

_And the actor slips into his role, his character. Enter stage right._

The door opened with a click, the bracing cold air left from the night rushing in to meet him, making him grateful he put on his robe. It was a short trip down the hallway, through the kitchen, and into the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face and hands, stopping to stare at himself in the mirror. The mask stared back; he looked away.

Warm water cascaded from the stainless steel shower head as his robe and underwear dropped to the floor. As he stepped under its steady downpour he shivered involuntarily; it was cold. Steam began to rise around him but he could not feel its warmth for it was lost on him.

Pregnant rivulets streamed down his rather average body; he could not be called unfit but nor could he be considered in top physical shape. Long, firm legs kept him steady and unwavering while strong shoulders slumped under the scrutiny of the shower. Half-lidded, dark green eyes studied the water circling the drain, long eyelashes dripping slowly. Tangled black bangs hung down in front of those eyes, an unkempt mop of, now soaked, hair sitting upon his head and plastered to the back of his neck.

He reached out to rest a palm against the slick tile of the shower wall, just to touch something solid, as memories of those early, sunny August days swam before his eyes. A prickle behind his eyes alerted him to the unbidden tears building, threatening to spill over as he thought of those lazy mornings drinking in the sun, basking in her presence.

The mask's hold was not so strong then. She saw past the mask.

He shook his head violently, willing the memories away. He quickly washed his hair and body, turned the taps off and dried himself off with a nearby hanging towel. He wrapped himself in his robe and dropped his underwear into the clothes basket in the corner as he opened the bathroom door and retraced his steps back to his room. He quickly stepped into a pair of boxers and dark blue jeans, scuffed and falling apart blue, black, and white sneakers, and pulled on a plain white shirt.

Before easing himself down on to his unmade bed he reached for his phone laying on the nightstand. He paused with a thumb hovering over the first digit of his password, eyes locked on the _Messages -_ _1 New Notification _balloon at the top of the screen. Mild curiosity washed through him as he tapped it and finished his password, slightly eager to see who had decided to talk to him. At the sight of his empty inbox there was a pang of loneliness in his heart but the vital organ soon forgot how to beat for a moment at the sight of the name at the top of the extremely short list.

Zelda Nohansen.

That name chipped at the mask and something escaped the cage. He _felt_ something for the first time in weeks.

A ghost of a smile on his lips.

* * *

_Cloudless is the sky, golden is the sun. A cool breeze drifts across the waters of the vast Lake Hylia, rustling the trees on the sparse islands and the copses scattered on the shore. Numerous youth splash and shout, swim and laugh under the watchful eye of the lifeguard on duty while the outcasts and the loners and the self-conscious watch on with envy in their eyes and a deep sadness in their hearts._

_He can relate._

_Farther down the shore, away from the playful commotion, is a particularly shady area, carpeted with lush, emerald-green grass, young maples reaching for the sky, still wearing their Summer cloaks of green. Those leaves dance in the wind, dappling the ground of his peaceful glade with sporadic patterns of light. Leaning up against a tree he sits with book in hand, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his eyebrows raised ever so slightly._

_The wind, the trees, the scent floating on the breeze, and the very wind itself are rejuvenating, reviving, _freeing _his soul piece by piece. As he finishes a page he dog-ears it gently, lowering his book to stare at her across the way, seated at a picnic table._

_Silhouetted against the morning sun, shadows are cast over her heart-shaped face as she gazes down at her own book with almond-shaped, dark blue eyes, an intelligent spark lying beneath those captivating pools of amethyst. Lips, purest ruby and full sit beneath a perfect nose, not a crack could be seen. Her auburn hair cascades down her back and the sides of her face, framing her flawless, creamy skin in a shower of beautiful russet. He imagined it felt like silk and smelled of strawberries or perhaps vanilla or lavender._

_Consumed by his thoughts and revelling in her beauty, he did not react fast enough to avert his gaze when she glanced his way. Their eyes locked for a moment before he averts his gaze, fumbling awkwardly for his book. He swallows nervously as his cheeks flush and he tries to keep his head as low as possible. In his peripheral vision he sees her long legs encased in skinny jeans and her dark blue and white converse approaching and, preparing himself, he slowly gazes upwards._

_He was not expecting the small, but no less radiant, smile on her face as she stops short and stares at him, book clasped loosely against her chest._

_A long scarf is wrapped around her slender throat and it is toyed with in the wind, distracting him for a moment as he admires it. She wears a black coat in the styles of a trench coat and a robe, the hem reaches down to her shins while the sleeves flare out and fall past her hands._

_"Mind if I sit down?" Her voice lisps slightly but he does not take note of it._

_He is speechless, just nods a small nod. As she eases herself down next to him, her words flow past her lips once more. "So what's your name? I'm Zelda, Zelda Nohansen." _

_A sudden interest in the hem of his shirt brings his gaze downwards and he picks on a loose thread nervously. A pregnant silence fills the air. He finally finds his voice. "Zelda..." He tests her name on his tongue. "It's a beautiful n-name. I'm L-Link. Uh, Hylia, Link Hylia," he finishes clumsily, still playing with that same thread._

_"Thanks, Link, it's nice to meet you." He barely suppresses a shiver at the sound of his name falling from her lips._

_The wind gently blows her russet strands of hair in his direction and he imperceptibly sniffs the air. For the first time in Goddesses knows how long, Link Hylia grins._

_Strawberries._

* * *

_**Ghosts of the past, memories bleeding through to the present.**_


	2. Chapter II: Twisted Nightmares

**DISCLAIMER: I, ScooterJLM, do not own The Legend of Zelda or any of its characters. However, I own any and all OCs that appear and the plotline contained within this story. I am not making any profit off this work of fiction.**

**Author's Note: Please forgive my rustiness and the short nature of the previous chapter but if I find a good stopping point, I'm going to stop there. Unless of course it's under 1000 words; I'm shooting for at least 1000 words every chapter because anything under that is just rude. A great many thanks to those who reviewed, favourited, and followed, your encouragement and support means a great to deal to me. Oh, and I'll be trying to update this within two weeks of the previously posted chapter, but with school now I may fall behind on writing so no promises. And extreme apologies about the short nature of the latter half of this chapter.**

**Scooter Radio: Shinedown - Call Me, Heroes, & Simple Man; Woodkid - Run Boy Run; Black Sabbath - War Pigs; Natasha Farrow - Calling To The Night; The Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know. These songs don't actually go with the story in any way, shape, or form, they're just good songs to listen to.**

_**Chapter published on September 3, 2014.**_

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Chapter II

Her first waking thoughts were of terror.

She shot bolt upright in bed, hands clutching at her throat, her chest heaving with heavy, panicked breathing. Cold sweat plastered her long auburn hair to her forehead and neck and her bed covers were tangled around her legs, trapping her. She kicked wildly to get them away, tiny whimpers of fear escaping her as she writhed desperately to free herself. With one last, powerful kick she sent the sheets to the floor and curled up with her knees pressed against her chest, arms wrapped around her legs. She pressed her forehead against her knees, let the tears come.

Sobs racked her lithe frame, agonised cries muffled by a hastily seized pillow. She squeezed her pillow as hard as she could with both hands, her knuckles turning ghostly white as she clenched and relaxed her fingers. Her throat throbbed in time with her rapid heartbeat and she cried harder because of it, body shaking uncontrollably. Time passed, eventually she could not cry if her life depended on it.

But then again, she had already done that.

Rational thought soon took over; she slowly loosened her hold on her pillow and raised her head, the view of her spacious room warped and distorted through the wetness in her eyes. Sniffling, she wiped away the tears and blinked until she could see properly, taking a shallow, shuddering, breath. Much better.

She swallowed hard and slowly unfurled from her fetal position, her hands absentmindedly smoothing out the wrinkles in her bed sheets. Her dark eyes flicked left and right, scrutinising the shadows in the corners of her room, searching for movement, signs of life. She found none.

She closed her eyes and let out a breath she was not aware she had held, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to forget the hellish scenarios that sleep had brought her. Forgetting was impossible, so she pushed them deep down inside herself, condensing her nightmares and hiding them away in the deepest, darkest corners of her mind.

Soft carpet met her feet as she swung her legs off her bed and stood, adjusting her dishevelled sleepwear; checkered lounge pants and a white tank top. She ran her hands through her hair as she crossed the room to the wide, east-facing window and threw it open, letting the cool gust of air envelop her, caress her skin, fill the room. Dawn crept over the horizon, sending lances of light into the sky, slowly washing away the stain that night had left behind. Stars gradually blinked out of existence at the coming of the sun, slinking back to their homes in the cosmos.

As the steadily approaching line of light finally broke into her room and shone into her eyes, she closed them and let the warmth of the golden orb wash over her and quell the goosebumps on her skin. Birds chirped and sang to each other, cars passed by and parted the air with a soft whoosh, and the wind rang wind chimes, rustled trees; she lost herself in the quiet sounds of the neighbourhood around her, let herself relax, took time to compose herself.

All too familiar with the saying all good things come to end, she slowly turned away from the window and padded towards the connected bathroom, flicking on the light as she did. It sprang into life, illuminating the windowless and unnecessarily large space. A long granite counter top ran the length of the back wall, two sparkling white sinks set into its polished surface. Upon the wall behind it was a mirror as long as the counter and the mere sight of her appearance made her want to cry all over again.

Her hair, tangled and twisted, stuck out in various places, her eyes were puffy and red, a dull sheen on her cheeks visible in the light from her tears, and her skin held a ghostly pallor, making her look as if she had not seen the sun in years. She turned away and tried not to think about the nightmares that just kept getting worse.

Her tank and lounge pants dropped to the floor next to the shower and she stepped inside to briefly fiddle with the knobs until she had a hot shower going, the sudden warmth making her shiver. She soon grew used to it and loosened her tense muscles to allow her own personal waterfall to wash away the stiffness of night. She slowly ran her delicate hands down her neck and chest as she leaned closer towards the shower head, letting it soak her long hair, a soft sigh of relief escaping her lips.

As the steam rose around her, she lost track of time, simply letting the world shrink down to the boundaries of her bathroom, herself being the only inhabitant.

She began working out the kinks and knots in her hair and with the water's help she made short work of it, running her long fingers through it once more to check for any she may have missed. Those gentle fingers then lathered shampoo into her long auburn tresses, letting the water slowly rinse it away. She continued her cleansing without a thought running through her mind, early mornings and late nights being the only times she was not running a social gauntlet; these were the peace hours.

Time passed, steam rose, water circled the drain, and soap dripped away from her body; only the Goddesses knew how long she was showering for.

She slowly opened her eyes at last, deciding it was time, and reached down to turn off the water, the thick, fuzzy mat outside the shower cushioning and drying her feet. A soft white towel hung next to the shower and she dried herself off, using it to cover herself as she exited the bathroom and moved into her room, shivering slightly at the bracing chill in the air.

A large mahogany dresser stood at the foot of her bed, burnished brass knobs and varnished wood gleaming proudly in the early morning light. She dressed methodically, deciding upon a long-sleeved, dark green shirt, faded skinny jeans, and one of her many scarves. Long and striped with grey and white, its material was still extremely soft despite being worn for so many years. It felt like water against the exposed skin of her neck and with tender care she wrapped it around and around until her slender neck was completely concealed in its wavy folds.

Her eyes flicked upwards to her tall vanity mirror and she looked at herself with a blank stare. Half-lidded, dark blue eyes stared back and she wondered if they were her own, wondered where the bright colour that used to be there had gone. For a moment, intense dark green eyes were staring back and she blinked once to rid herself of the image.

_"Zelda... It's a beautiful n-name."_

Mahogany creaked under the pressure exerted from her grip, her knuckles turned white, and her mouth pressed down into a deep frown. Her thin brow furrowed and she leaned down until her head was parallel with the dresser, eyes screwed shut. She tried to force him out of her thoughts, shaking her head slowly, finding it impossible.

* * *

_She finds him in the same place as yesterday, his book propped open on his lap and so engrossed by its pages that he does not notice her approach. Surrounded by young maples garbed in green and the soft grass that creates a natural cushion, she can not help but find the image picturesque; he looks at home._

_The air is still for once, allowing light to splash through the leaves and keep the shade stationary. Water laps rhythmically at the grassy shore behind him, birds sing to each other in the trees, and in the distance behind her she can hear the usual din of youth swimming. In the centre of all of it he sits reading, a nearly unnoticeable smile on his face. Long black bangs hang down in front of his face as he stares down, casting a small shadow on his features._

_She takes a small step forward, resuming her gait, and she clears her throat softly. He looks up slowly, like he is tearing his attention away, and regards her with a blank stare for a fraction of a second, but the corners of his mouth soon turn up in a joyous grin at recognising her. His dark green eyes light up at the sight of her and dog-ears his page with tender care. He is silent for a moment, simply staring, and she feels her cheeks burn._

_"Hi," she ventures quietly, clasping her book close to her chest, "can I sit down?" Wordlessly, he gestures to ground beside him._

_She takes those last few steps towards him, crosses her legs, and sits down in one fluid motion, brushing aside a few errant strands of hair. "It's a beautiful day isn't it, Link?"_

_Link picks at his book and looks at her from the corner of his eye, like he is mustering his courage. "I didn't think you'd come back, Zelda," he says, turning to meet her gaze. "No one ever sticks around for long."_

_Zelda smiles that small, radiant smile and shakes her head slightly. "And why wouldn't I?"_

* * *

Zelda's phone had found its way into her hand and her thumbs moved on their own, entering the number he had given her on their last day together. She watched as her body took over and typed out a message, like it was someone different doing it for her. Before she could stop herself the message was sent and at that moment she dropped her phone, wincing at the blaring sound of it hitting mahogany in the silence of her room.

A breath Zelda was not aware she had been holding was exhaled, her body slumping in realisation of what she had done. There was a reason she had not contacted him, but in that moment she had forgotten it; he made her feel so much pain. Pain in her mind, her heart, her soul. Pain because he wore the same suffocating mask as she did, although his was blank, cold, unfeeling, while her's was the happy princess that was not dying inside.

She felt something hot rolling down her cheeks, saw it fall and splash on to her dresser; tears. She wiped them away with practised precision, and breathed deep.

She started towards the bathroom once again. _Time to paint on the princess._

* * *

**_Twisted nightmares haunt, loneliness pervades the coming of dawn._**


	3. Chapter III: Laid Bare

**DISCLAIMER:**** I, ScooterJLM, do not own The Legend of Zelda or any of its characters. H****owever****,**** I**** own any and all OCs that appear**** and the plot line contained within this story****. I am not making any profit off this work of fiction.**

**Author's Note:**** And we're back after a lengthy absence, which I apologize profusely for, life has a way of getting in the way of things.**

**There seems to be some confusion on Link's appearance in this story, focusing on his hair and eye colour, so I'll clear it up: the Link of this story is based on me to an extent and that extent includes his appearance. And to the guest reviewer who asked whether "Zelda" is real, my answer is yes, she's a very good friend of mine, and is the reason I'm writing this story.**

**While we're on the subject of reviews and such, big thanks to all who reviewed, favourited, and followed, it really means a lot. I'll start to sound like a broken record but it really is the truth, I appreciate each and every one of you. Oh, and it'll be worth your time to read the previous chapter once more, I've added a new ending. It's not much but it wraps up better.**

**P.S. **_**Chameleon Eyes**_**, our first reviewer, ****created a community called **_**The **__**Sacred Realm**_**, and added this story to his/her own little archive, so go check out that community, follow it, enjoy the stories posted there, they all look fantastic. I won't keep you any longer. :)**

_**Chapter published on October 17, 2014.**_

* * *

Chapter III

He waited.

Link shivered and stuffed his hands deeper into his sweater pockets, relaxed as the involuntary shaking soon passed. His hood was drawn up over his head to protect against the unseasonably cold weather blanketing Hyrule for weeks now. He stared down at the spotless concrete of the sidewalk beneath his scuffed and falling apart Eponas, watching the faint wisps of fog from his drawing breath dissipate in the air. He glanced up and around every now and again, scanning the faces of those passing by, those down the street, across the street, all around. When he found no sign of her approach he lowered his head and slumped forward slightly in his seat on the cast iron bench, a nearly silent sigh breezing past his lips as he closed his eyes for a moment.

And still he waited.

The cold continued to seep into him and he simply resigned himself to it's painful embrace, relaxing his once again tensed muscles as he leaned back in his freezing, uncomfortable seat. The chilled iron bit through his jeans and sucked the warmth from his body and he barely suppressed a violent tremor as he shifted and dug deeper into his pockets. Soon finding that just sitting there was impossible, Link decided to distract himself.

He opened his eyes and looked across the street, studied an elegant willow dancing in the wind in front of one the Goddess Temples, this one in particular devoted to the Goddess of Wisdom, Nayru. He craned his neck to observe the once glittering, towering steeples, the grandeur of the magnificent brickwork and shining stained glass dulled by the abysmal weather. Being in Upper Hyrule City made him feel out-of-place, like he did not belong, like a tattered rag among spools of silk.

Lavishly built stores lined the main street and various expensive restaurants and hotels were peppered around the area, catering to visiting politicians and the rich who never worked a day in their life. Link understood why Zelda asked to meet her here, she living within the gated community not far off where he was now freezing; being the daughter of Mayor Daphnes, he expected nothing less.

Not for the first time since he sat down, Link questioned his presence there, pondered why he even bothered to show up. She made it clear that there was not much to say considering she did not bother to talk to him in the weeks after their departure from one another. Link bristled in his seat, shifting as he felt anger worm itself into his gut. _Why the hell am I waiting here, in the freezing cold weather, in a place I don't belong? Waiting for someone who obviously didn't want to continue a... whatever the hell it was?_

Questions buzzed around his head like a swarm of angry bees, slowly pushing him more and more into rage's broiling embrace. He shifted, moving to get up and storm away, more angry thoughts running through his mind, when that voice spoke. For every thought he had, every decision he made, a voice would call from the back of the theatre that was his mind, stand and shout opposition, question the stage. But this time it gave him an answer. _Because I can't forget about her. I remember every detail about her and she haunts me, my waking hours and dreams alike she haunts me._

Link felt the rising anger slowly ebb away, and he relaxed once more, a heavy sigh becoming a veritable cloud of fog exploding from his mouth. He glanced down and saw his white knuckles, relaxed his hands to relieve the intense pressure.

Rational thought returned and Link checked the time on his phone, saw he sat there for fifteen minutes, making her ten minutes late. With a weary shake of his head, he stood and winced as his stiff legs broke out of the position they were in since he sat down. He pulled his hood farther over his head and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, preparing to begin the arduous journey across town to his home.

"Link?"

_Can't take one step. Not one._

He felt his lower lip quiver as he clenched his jaw tightly for a moment, loosening it as he slowly turned to face her, his hands sliding out of his pockets and hanging firmly at his sides. There she stood, merely a few feet away, long scarf snapping proudly in the wind like a royal standard. Cheeks flushed from the bitter cold and mouth hanging open slightly to suck down tired breaths, she looked like she full-out sprinted the distance. The hood of her peculiar and very expensive looking coat was drawn up over her head, a long auburn braid coiling part way around her concealed neck, dangling out over her scarf. Her dark eyes looked apologetic, desperate even.

His icy glare softened.

Her delicate fingers fiddled with the brass fastenings on her jacket as she continued, "Um... sorry I'm late, I-I got held up and I... couldn't... sorry..." Her downcast eyes studied her blue converse as she toed the ground, her hands stuffed into her pockets.

Link nearly fell, so strong was the sorrow in his heart at seeing her so saddened. Acting purely on impulse, he crossed the short distance between them and wrapped her in a tight embrace, closing his eyes as his hood fell away and he caught the faintest trace of her perfume. He felt her stiffen for a moment but she soon relaxed and awkwardly reached up to lightly return the hug.

He stepped back and felt the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. "It's all right. Let's get something to drink."

* * *

Zelda felt the cold's brittle fingers clawing at her back as the door to the small and comfortably furnished café gently closed behind them. The whole way to the café they walked in almost complete silence, so she studied his face, wondering what changed in him since she last saw him. The expression he wore when he turned around was exactly what she expected, bitter, indifferent, uncaring, perhaps a twinge of anger, but she saw it melt before her eyes. The small smile on his face she saw when he pulled away since fell and his lips were set in a firm line, as if he were deep in thought. About what, it was anyone's guess.

Instead of dwelling on it, Zelda glanced around her new surroundings, took note of the warm, easy lighting, the colour scheme matching that of most cafés, dark browns and reds, with splashes of tan between. The steady, but quiet, hum of coffee makers could be heard and the place carried the dark, strong smell of the brew. High granite tables and finely made black chairs upholstered with leather mingled with more spacious booths, flowing, dark red curtains framing well-cleaned windows stamped with the business's name and date of establishment: _Romani's - est. 1877_. The simple finery of the place surprised her; it looked out-of-place in the graffiti and drab, concrete apartment complex adorned Lower Hyrule City.

She turned her head and saw that Link was staring at her and she felt her cheeks burn as he suddenly looked away and walked up to the counter, tapping a small silver bell that sat off to the side. She hesitated in following for a moment, the forlorn look on his face giving her pause. Zelda approached the counter and stood beside him, noticed his jaw work slightly as if he were slowly grinding his teeth. One moment he was angry, the next happy, sorrowful after that, and back to angry. _It's like he's playing emotional roulette, who knows what he'll be next. _Zelda sighed inwardly; she did not know what she was expecting, but this was not it.

Just then, there was a creak as a swinging door opened and out came a rather tall girl, long, muted red hair tumbling like a river out of a small black cap with the word _Romani's_ stamped in gold. Sprayed across her high cheekbones and small nose were dozens of tiny freckles, complimenting her bright, laughing blue eyes. Zelda glanced at the name tag pinned on to the black apron worn over her dark red shirt: _Cremia_.

She flashed a smile towards Link and in response the corners of his mouth twitched upwards as she greeted him with a small nod, resting a hand on the register. "Afternoon, Link, the usual?" Her voice was cheery, a hint of a giggle to be heard at the end.

Link rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head slightly. "No, for today we'll just have two hot chocolates, one with a generous amount of whipped cream." She saw Link's eyes flit over to her for a moment and then his attention was back on Cremia, but Zelda was not listening to their words.

Zelda's eyes widened slightly and she turned her head to stare at Link who just looked straight ahead, like she was not even there. For a moment, she was confused that he knew exactly what she wanted, but it came rushing back to hit her like a bag of bricks.

_"You can't be serious!" Zelda laughs, her head tilting back slightly as she shifts on to her side to regard the peaceful figure that was Link lying a few feet away._

_His legs are crossed and he leans his head against the tree behind him, his hands acting as a barrier between the rough bark and his scalp. Eyes closed, he just breathes in the cool, clean air surrounding him, feels the soft embrace of the wind tousling his hair. He chuckles at her reaction and holds up his hands, giving a quick shake of his head. "No, I'm completely serious, one hundred percent."_

_She laughs again and shakes her head in disbelief. "You can't swim... How can someone not know how to swim?"_

_At this, Link opens his eyes and shoots her a faux glare. "Hey, I never said I can't swim, it's just... I can't swim _effectively_, that's all."_

_Zelda holds up her hands in mock surrender, trying hard to stifle her laughter and hide her beaming smile. "Of course, of course, my apologies," she giggles. "Anyway, it's your turn to ask something, so let's hear it then."_

_Link gives her one last look and closes his eyes again, shrugging as he sighs. "Hmm... How about your... favourite thing to drink when it's cold out?"_

_Zelda perks up at that and Link watches amusedly through half-lidded eyes as her brows knit together in apparent confusion. "Little bit specific, don't you think?" She shrugs and her smile returns as she thinks carefully, looking upwards to the dancing canopy above her. "Hot chocolate," she answers, her head snapping back down to face him, smile grown larger, "hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream. It tastes like heaven and warms you right up; I love it."_

"Zelda."

_He remembered that? Why?_

"Hey, Zelda. You still there?"

Zelda blinked, coming out of her reverie in time to see Link holding a steaming mug, a mountain of whipped cream topping the gently rocking dark brown liquid. He looked concerned, his eyebrows raised slightly as he offered the drink to her.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, I was just... thinking." She gave him a reassuring twitch of the lips and wrapped her hands around the mug, carefully easing it from his grasp, sighing inwardly at the spreading feeling of warmth throughout her hands. She took a sip, mindful not to dip her nose in the cream, and smiled, looking him in the eyes. "Thank you, Link. This is really good of you."

He picked up his own mug off the counter with a quiet 'thank you' to Cremia, and said, "It's no problem, you looked like you needed it. C'mon." He brushed past her and she followed him across the linoleum-tiled floor to a booth across from the front window.

As she slid into the booth, Zelda truly noticed how empty the place was. "Is it always this quiet and, well... empty, around here?"

Link looked at her from over the lip of his mug, finishing his sip before answering. "No, Cremia usually has a lot of business; today's just a slow day I suppose."

"Oh." Zelda took another sip just to busy her hands, look anywhere else but into his intense gaze.

"Yeah."

A pregnant silence filled the air between them, and all the while Link did not take his eyes off hers. Zelda could hear the ticking of a wall clock somewhere, the sound blaring against the gentle hum in the background. She felt a strong, sickening, nervous feeling in her stomach, the situation making her suddenly extremely uncomfortable. She clung to her mug and felt her shoulders bunch together as she curled in on herself slightly.

He broke the silence, asked the question she was dreading. "So tell me, Zelda, why did you want to meet me?"

She dreaded it because there was no answer. Something else compelled her to message him and she had no idea what it was. _How do I explain that?_ _I can't, I can't explain it._

The sound of the clock was deafening, she felt the warmth of her mug beginning to become uncomfortable but she only wrapped her hands around it tighter, the strain turning her knuckles white. She held her breath, but for what she had no idea, kept holding it until her lungs screamed in protest.

"Zelda?"

That did it.

All at once, Zelda exhaled strongly, relaxed her grip, and she looked up and stared Link in the eyes. He merely stared back, an eyebrow raised slightly, waiting patiently for an answer. She studied those eyes, somehow found the strength to not flinch away from staring into them. In those dark emerald pools, she found her answer.

"Because I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I disregarded you and that was completely unfair of me." Zelda's throat constricted beneath her scarf and she felt _it _tingle, bringing unbidden tears to her eyes. "With my boyfriend gone there's no one else and I'm... afraid. I'm so sorry, Link, sorry for everything."

* * *

_**Sorrows laid bare, splinters in the mask.**_


End file.
